AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Mal’ik hesitated.
Sebastian sighed. “Fine. Later then.”
Relieved Sebastian wasn’t going to press the issue, Mal’ik led the way back into the empty hall. He wasn’t particularly convinced that the metal casing effectively kept a torvar locked inside a body. The neck might be the optimal and preferred way for the worms to enter and exit hosts, but Mal’ik doubted it was the only way, especially for one as experienced in body-hopping as Sebastian. Still, he wasn’t ready to give up that line of defense completely.
Sebastian looked back and forth down the hall, then swept an arm out in front of him. “After you, Commander Mal’ik.”
“Just Mal’ik,” Mal’ik muttered as he passed him. He was giving up his titles. They no longer applied.
Sebastian didn’t comment, and they hastened toward the farther—and emptier—transport bay on the south side of the complex. Sebastian managed to move nearly silently even in a klah’eel’s body, and Mal’ik found himself frequently looking over his shoulder to make sure he was still there. He always was, right on Mal’ik’s heels.
If Sebastian could defeat the neck casing, it would be the easiest thing in the world for him to abandon Tesh’s body and burrow into the nape of Mal’ik’s neck.
But he didn’t.
“Almost there,” Mal’ik told him as they rounded the last corner—still unseen. Patrick had arranged the guard’s patrols and postings to give him this opening, and Mal’ik felt a surge of gratitude and loss.
“I know. I assume you have some supplies stashed somewhere?”
“Yes.” Mal’ik opened the doors to the transport bay. “In—”
He froze.
The slim figure in the middle of the transport bay turned toward them, and Mal’ik felt as though he had taken one of Lar’a’s punches to the gut. Or maybe one of Patrick’s kicks. The air rushed from his lungs, and the contents of his stomach rolled and threatened to follow.
“Oliver.”
“Mal’ik!” Oliver’s frame sank in obvious relief, and he rushed toward them. “Thank god.”
Panic surged in Mal’ik’s chest as he watched the distance between them shorten precipitously. He slung the gatlung off his back on instinct. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Oliver’s eyes widened, and he stuttered to a stop mid-stride, as though fear of the blade warred with something else that still wanted to push him forward. He raised his hands. “Mal’ik.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” Mal’ik repeated and finally took in the clothes Oliver was wearing. Beautiful, elegant, more formal than even his usual fare. Mal’ik was breaking out a terrorist and Oliver was dressed in luxury. Because he wasn’t supposed to be here. “Go back to your banquet, Oliver.”
“No, I’m not going to the stupid banquet.” Oliver scowled. “I can’t sit back and drink cocktails knowing what you’re doing. You can’t—”
“Stop.” Mal’ik tightened his grip on the gatlung until his knuckles were white. He hadn’t thought he would have to face Oliver, not again and not like this. “I’m not following other people’s orders anymore. Even yours, Oliver.”
“I’m not here to order you to do anything.” Oliver took more steps toward him. And Mal’ik’s heart rate jumped. He knew he couldn’t use his weapon on Oliver, and it would break him to feel Oliver’s hands on him one last time just to leave him. “I can’t let you—”
“Oliver, stop!” He was within lunging distance of Mal’ik’s gatlung now.
“I can’t let you go alone!” Oliver knocked the blade away from him and was suddenly in Mal’ik’s space, chest to chest, his hands on Mal’ik’s jaw. “I can’t let you go alone.”
Mal’ik’s mouth dropped open. He stared into Oliver’s hazel eyes, blazing with determination. The human’s hands on his face were firm. Mal’ik inhaled—nothing.
“Goddammit.” Oliver let go of him with one hand and used the cuff of his shirt to wipe away the cream over his pulse points, leaving white smears on the expensive fabric.
Oliver’s scent hit Mal’ik so hard it staggered him. Earth, linen, sunshine, yearning, fierce determination. Fear. So much fear, Mal’ik dropped his gatlung and wrapped his arms around Oliver without thinking, pulling him tight into his chest. Oliver shook with a suppressed sob, and the human’s hands fisted into the back of his shirt.
“I’ve got you.” Mal’ik tightened his arms around him, but Oliver shook his head and pushed against his chest.
“No. I’ve got you.” Oliver pushed away and turned toward Sebastian. “I can help. I’m coming with you.”
“No.” The word was out before Mal’ik even considered it, but after a moment to do so, he repeated. “No. I can’t let you do that, Oliver.”
“I’m already doing it.” Oliver pulled the heavy pendant from around his neck and held it out to Sebastian, but Mal’ik grabbed Oliver’s wrist before the torvar could take it.
